My Lilyflower
by Sarah74656
Summary: Marauder's timeframe fic. LilyJames. Poor Lily has noone to confide in but a tattered old book. She's lonely, but that won't stop her being her irrepressable self... Gentle Humour.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: OK, I've never written anything quite like this before, and it might be rubbish, so please, do let me know if you love it or hate it. Then I'll know whether to keep writing or not!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nothing at all. Sadly._

* * *

I can't believe I'm actually writing in this stupid old book. Really, really stupid. I'm supposed to be the smart one and the clever one and the rational level-headed one. So why am I venting into an old, decrepid, battered diary? Goodness only knows.

I guess, if I'm being logical, in my usual fashion, I'm just sounding my ideas and rantings and ramblings into an inanimate object because it's better than telling one of my so-called friends, and breaking my facade of perfection that everyone else seems to think I have. It's so hard, you know. If you ask anyone, I'm sure they'd say I've plenty of friends. But it's not true. If you're Head Girl and most popular girl in the entire of Hogwarts, how are you supposed to know who likes you for you, and who likes you because everyone else likes you?

And they do. Everyone. Even Severus Snape, who likes to pretend that he hates me, and calls me a Mudblood infront of everyone else; even he likes me really. I can tell. Mostly by the way I'll see him avoid the chances that come up often to mock or taunt me. There they go, hanging in the air, comments waiting to be said but... nothing. From anyone.

Being liked by everyone can sometimes be such a pain.

I think that's it for a rant for today.

- - - -

A new page for a new rant. And of course, something new to think about.

If it wasn't remarkable enough that I picked up this tattered old thing in the first place, then it's practically astonishing that I returned to it again. There's no dates in here, but this is actually later the same day as that first thing I wrote. I couldn't believe just how therapeutic it was to have written like that. For the first time in weeks, my headache was actually fading and I felt some of that good humour for which I seem to be so well known returning to me.

In such a mood, I could even almost cope with James Potter. And that's saying something.

Not that he's not completely adorable, of course, as everyone knows. And there's something about the way in which he doesn't even notice the other girls competing for his attention that is endearing and... I don't even know what it is. But it's a good thing.

That aside, I still need my strength for dealing with him. It's like getting a crush on someone who is completely off limits because they're your best friend's ex or something. Not that I'd know what that means, obviously. As you know from my earlier rant. But you get my point.

And it's stupid, because the only limits that he's breaking are set by me. Sometimes I'm my own worst enemy.

But I refuse to date, or even admit to caring for, anyone who shows such blatant disregard for the feelings of others. And by others, I don't mean his collection of fan girls.

Oh my... I just called them fan girls. What am I thinking?

I need sleep.

- - - -

So... I can't sleep. I can't help it. It's an Evans family trait, insomnia. Not many people know that. Technically, I suppose, this is just a book, so, still no-one else knows, but... Yes, yes, I'm rambling. I'm sleep-deprived. Go figure.

I've been thinking about Remus. And Sirius. They're like a scale, with one of them at either end, and James in the middle. Remus is so... good. Really, he's intelligent and sensible and yes, he's cute. So is Sirius I guess, but in a bad-boy sort of a way. If he was a muggle, he'd ride a motorbike and wear a black leather jacket. Who knows, maybe he'll get one some day. It'd suit him. I can see Sirius, looking all handsomely rugged and riding a big black Harley, the wind in his hair...

I need to stop this. I need to stop fantasising about any male that comes into my head. But, I can't help it. Call it distraction tactics. If I'm thinking about everyone, then I'm not thinking about someone, anyone, in particular, and I'm not getting attached. And if I'm not attached, I can't get distracted. Which is important, because I'd like to pass my NEWTs.

I know that I'm really getting desperate when I start thinking of Peter in that way. Friendly as he is, you can't help thinking that he's a bit... I don't know... pathetic? Is that even the right word? Maybe, maybe not. But however he is personality-wise, he's certainly not a looker. And I say that with no blemish whatsoever on my conscience, because whilst I would never condone not loving a person because of their looks, I think that it is kind of important for them to be at least vaguely attractive if you're going to fantasise about them.

You know what I've just thought? I really, really need to put some kind of protective charm on this now. Else you know what will happen; one of those boys will find it and then I'd never live it down. Especially not calling James 'adorable'.

So, I'm going to charm and I'm going to sleep. Hear that brain? Time to go to bed!

I hope it listens.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: I'm writing more. Anyone would think I'm enjoying this or something._

* * *

It's Saturday today. For most, that's a day by the lake. Usually, for me, it's a day in my books, but today, I'm lacking the motivation. I feel in a helping-people mood. Remus says I have a 'saving-people-thing'. He asked me if I'd save James from himself, but I said I wouldn't know how. And Remus just gave me that look, you know, the one that should really be sending a girl of his choice into transports of delight at the cuteness of it all. Poor Remus. I feel so sorry for him. For reasons that are far too secret to even write down in here, no matter how well protected I think my diary is. 

Did I just call this my diary? I guess I did. How odd.

Even odder, was the dream I had last night. It was one of those that makes no sense at all when you've woken up, but at the time seems perfectly sensible. I was at a wedding, which started off as someone elses but then kind of became mine, but I don't know who I was marrying. Then next thing I know I'm at a house, and fetching a blanket from the airing cupboard so that my baby won't be cold. And then... then, the dream goes all third-person on me, and I become an observer, watching some people running across a field at dawn to the top of a hill. I don't know who they were.

And then I woke up. I had a strange sense of loss too, as if I'd almost touched on something very important but it slipped away as I got close to it.

Not that dreams ever really mean anything. Two years of Divination has taught me that, without a doubt. No wonder I dropped the stupid subject at NEWT level, even if I did get some half-decent results in the exam. Honestly, how anyone can possibly see a future in the left-overs of someone's cup of tea, or in the lines on their hands, is well beyond me.

I might join the throng today and go sit by the lake. Or I might see if any first years need a hand with their homework.

I like helping the first years. They ask easy questions, and they're not savvy enough with life at Hogwarts yet to know too much about James Potter. Which means less questions about him, which is good for my nervous disposition.

- - - - - - - - - - -

No first years in the common room this morning. Maybe they're all sleeping.

So, I've headed to the great outdoors. The weather is turning all grey and miserable, and I wouldn't be surprised if it rained. Though, that might suit me actually. I've been perfecting an umbrella charm, based on muggle umbrellas, so that I can walk through the rain and use both my hands at the same time, without getting wet. If I do say so myself, I think it's one of my better ideas so far this term.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

As I predicted, the rain has come. So now, I'm sitting on a wall, on a small towel I conjured for the purpose, being nicely dry under my umbrella charm. Lucky for me, it works like a dream.

It's nice to watch people running around in the rain. Not because I have a sadistic desire to see them get wet; just that when you're running out of the rain you're not looking at other people. So I miss their eyelines, and they run past me. And I get some peace and quiet to indulge in my new favourite occupation: writing.

I'm really getting into this. It's so calming.

I've just had an idea for a charm actually... I wonder if I could charm my quill to write what I'm thinking? That would cut down on time, certainly, because I wouldn't have to wait for my slow hands to catch up with my brain.

It's worth a thought.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Testing.  
Testing.  
Oooh! Yes. Yes, it's working.

Wow, it's weird to see my words forming on the page whilst I'm thinking them. The pen moves so super-fast, really it does. Flying across the page, before I've even had a chance to think what I've just thought. Um, or something like that. Oh, this is the problem, isn't it, now that I'm got it to write what I'm thinking I won't be able to go back and correct mistakes or errant thoughts about boys or-

Ahem! Scratch that. Mentally. Or- um, you know what I mean.

Oh! Look. It's the three musketeers. I wonder where Peter has gotten to. They all look rather drowned, believe it or not. I guess it's the weather. There they go, into the front of Hogwarts... Now, why am I so bothered that they are gone and didn't notice me? Anyone would think I cared or something.

OK, clearing my mind of all outside influences and errant thoughts. Thinking zen. Thinking calm. Thinking- James!

"James! You startled me!" He looks amused, dammit. And wet through. I'll just smirk a bit.  
"Yes, Evans, that happens when you're lost in a daydream. What you dreaming about? Yours Truly?"

Oh my, the man is such a walking ego. Honestly.  
"Don't flatter yourself." Gosh, I'm full of the lines today, aren't I?  
"What're you writing?" Ooops, I cannot have James Potter showing too much interest in this little book, especially when it's got written proof that I find him adorable in it. Oh tell me he hasn't seen me thinking that. I am so hiding this book in my bag and hoping I don't squash the quill that's still writing as I'm doing it.  
"Never you mind, Nosey."

Great, I love awkward silences.

"Dammit Evans, how are you so flippin' dry? It's a right torrent out here and I swear you're not even damp." So, I allowed myself a little glow at the words of praise that I'm sure were in there somewhere. Sometimes you've got to give the benefit of the doubt.

"Umbrella charm. I got the idea from a muggle invention"  
"Some of us don't have the luxury of a muggle upbringing, Evans."

Again with the awkward silence.

"Don't suppose you feel like sharing?"

Oh my. Now I feel really stupid, and more than slightly selfish.

"Oh! God, yes. Sorry. I don't know what... World of my own, I guess." I flick my wand, I extend the umbrella. Damn that boy for having such a cute face when he looks relieved.

"My wiley charms putting you off your game?" I just wish he didn't have to spoil it all by looking so smug.  
"Hmph." That's just not even worth a remark.

More silence, though somehow not so awkward. Now he's joining me on the wall.

"What are you doing out here anyway, James?" Is it me or does he look vaguely sheepish?  
"Oh, just strolling." Hmm, yeah, whatever.

More of that silence. When did we get civil? This is confusing. In fact, it's beyond confusing. It's-  
"Anyway, Evans, I'll be off. Places to go, people to see. First years to impress. You know how it is. Or, maybe you don't. Hmm. Ciao, anyway."

And just like that he's gone. I kind of want to get my book from my bag but at the same time I can't stop watching him leave. That glad that he's leaving, obviously. Maybe.

If he wasn't such a git, a woman could easily find herself falling for James Potter, with his warm presence and his comforting voice.

Good job he's still a git then really.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: Thank you for the kind words! Because you were so nice, here's some more. _

* * *

Well, the weather is better today. Which I'm torn up about actually, because I can't decide if it's a good thing or not. On the one hand, the nice weather means it's wonderfully quiet in the Common Room and so I don't have to go all the way to the library to get some work done. On the other hand, I'm jealous that I can't be outside in the sunshine, because I have to work. And no, I can't go outside and do it, because firstly everyone else is out there being loud and noisy and distracting, and secondly the light relfects too much off the pages in my book and gives me a headache.

And then there's the third hand, which says that actually I wish it were raining again so that I could go back outside like yesterday, and be alone and quiet where I could relax and study a little. And possibly even have some more chance encounters with... certain people.

OK, I'm not going there. That's just not right. I'm not even going to think about it.

I am actually quite stressed about my exams. There seems so much to do and so very little time to do it in. Obviously, I want to be working but... I don't know. Something is making me very distracted. I'm willing to do anything not to be studying. Like this, for example. Instead of doing practice arithmancy questions, I'm writing in here. And I really need the practice for arithmancy. I desperately, desperately want Os in my NEWTs, but I can't seem to get up the motivation for studying for them.

This is no good. I'm going for a walk or something.

--------------

I tried down by the lake, but there were too many people there. Too many even for me, in this 'not-work' mood I'm in.

In the end, I ended up back inside Hogwarts, in the courtyard down by the transfiguration classrooms. Mostly seventh years here, all seeming to be as stressed about their NEWTs as me, which is nice to see. Maybe I'll get some work done now.

--------------------

This is never a good sign. When Severus Snape turns up, you know that trouble is probably going to follow. Oh good grief, he's coming to talk to me. Time to stick the quill on 'record' and put the book in my bag I think...

I hope it's working. Reading back my thoughts from my encounter yesterday was highly amusing and I'd hate to have to pass up the opportunity to do it again.

Grief, it's taking Severus ages to get over here today. What's he been doing, practicing walking slowly?

"Lily." All that effort, and all he can think up is 'Lily'? "Hello, Severus." Now he's sitting down. What is it with me and the awkward silences? "You revising, Severus?"

Why is he looking at me like that, all 'put-out' and everything? He spoke to me first, heck, he even came all the way across the quad, in that slow and tortured fashion may I add, to sit here! Some people, really.

"Yes, I am. Unlike certain people, I consider the need for good marks to be high. Although, I suppose that need is proportional to what you actually want to do with them when you're finished."

My word, that was practically a speech from Severus. Usually he's so... monosyllabic.

"Mmm." Well, what can you say to that, really?

"I didn't mean-" Yes? You didn't mean what? No, it's not looking like he's going to finish that sentance. I'll just be content with him sitting and looking awkwardly at me I guess. And I can smile. That usually does the trick of diffusing awkward situations. Unless they're with James, of course, but that's another matter.

Hmm, he seems to be revising Potions. Lord knows why. Whatever you say about Severus, you definitely cannot fault his ability at Potions. It's a wonder he doesn't get more attention from Slughorn in class; he's more than proved himself, ability-wise. Maybe it's his slightly deficient personality that lets him down.

"Potions?" Well, at least I got his attention, and stopped the awkward silence-type thing. I'm growing to hate them.

"Yes." And a curt nod. Lovely.

Oh... seems like I was right about trouble. It's not Severus' fault, well, ok, maybe it is a bit, because he does provoke them but really, they shouldn't retaliate. And yes, Severus has noticed them too; I can tell because he's just dropped all his notes on the floor. I daren't help him pick them up, he'd probably just be insulted.

"Snivellus!" Whichever of those immature idiots came up with that deserves a wand shoved somewhere... unpleasant. Today, the pleasure of shouting it has gone to Peter. Which I must admit, is surprising, because usually he takes a bit of a back seat when it comes to these things. Ah, he is closely followed by Sirius, who I suspect put him up to it.

"Lily! Is something distracting you from your work?" Sirus' unmistakeable dulcet tones. Joy, joy, how to make a woman's day.

"No, thank you Sirius. Though something appears to be distracting you from yours." Hmm, and all I get for that is a smirk.

"Ah, Lily, so little you understand about the life of a happy-go-lucky man"  
"It's more the life of the unemployed, resitting-his-NEWTs, happy-go-lucky man I was thinking of actually, Sirius." Now that grin... that grin is the Sirius equivilent of the Remus 'look' that I mentioned a couple of entries ago. Seriously sexy, if I'm being honest. Lord only knows why this man does not have a girlfriend. Mind you, she'd have to have the patience of a saint to put up with him.

"So little faith! And I thought you liked me, Lily!" Hmm. Let's be neutrally diplomatic. There's no need to bring his grin into this conversation.  
"Sirius, sirius. My opinion of you personality has no bearing on my opinion of your ability to pass your exams"  
"Very smooth. Now Snivellus, on the other hand-" And he has stopped taunting why? "Where's he gone?"

Oh, very clever, Severus. I'm impressed. Sneak away, under the cover of... well, I don't quite know what this thing is that Sirius and I do. Flirting? Kind of, but not quite, it's not quite serious enough. Banter, that's probably a better word.

"Never mind, Sirius. Better luck next time." Aw, now he's looking all put out.  
"Yeah, I bet you wish me good luck... good luck for him to be somewhere I'm not. Why do you protect him, Lily? He wouldn't do the same for you."

For some reason, that thought makes me a little sad. Probably because I fear that it's true. I wish that the whole world tried to be nice to one another, but they're not. Still, doesn't stop me from trying to improve my own little corner of it.

But of course, I can't say all that to Sirius.

"Guess I'm just a nice person."

At least I'm back to comfortable silences again. They're better than the awkward ones.

"I'll leave you to revise then, oh book-queen of Hogwarts." Well, it's a better nickname than Snivellus.

And he leaves, Peter in tow. I guess, in retrospect, that it was a little strange not to see James and Remus with them. I'd expect Remus to be revising in the library; is it too much to hope that James is following his lead?

Probably.


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Note: Not many reviews for the last chapter. Go on, make my day; review me. _

* * *

I was right; reading one's thoughts back to oneself in retrospect is quite amusing. Though the prevelance of sarcastic thoughts is worrying me slightly. 

The weather is irrelevant today, since I am to be spending most of the day in NEWT classes in preparations for the exams. Flitwick seems to think that the most appropriate way to prepare us for our Charms NEWT is to keep us locked in a classroom all morning until we impress him, and McGonagall has obviously been talking to him in the staff room because she has a similar idea planned for our afternoon, or so I hear.

Oh really, I can't wait.

At least I'll have my diary with me to keep me sane. Sort of.

Sort of sane, that is, not sort of with me. Obviously.

------------------------------------

OK, so here we are at Charms. Quill is writing in my bag, hopefully. Yes, there we go, I've checked. Still never gets old seeing what you're thinking racing across the page.

Flitwick has paired us all up for our practicing of illusory charms. I'm with Ellie Dowt; nice girl, but very quiet. She's a Ravenclaw, so obviously is plenty good enough at this already not to need the practice. And, unlike me, she's obviously been doing some revision. I'm trying not to be, but I can't help it: I'm jealous.

"Lily?" Must really learn to snap out of reveries when I'm supposed to be working. It doesn't help improve your NEWT marks.

"Yes, El?" Bless her, she looks nervous.

"I was wondering... If you don't mind, and if you've got some time, maybe you could, um, you know, check me on some of my transfiguration work? Because I know that you're the best in class and I really don't want to be asking McGonagall because to be honest, well, she scares me. A lot."

She thinks I'm the best in the class? Now let's be fair here; I'm not. And it makes me ache just to even think it, but I know who is the best and it's not Ellie either. It's James head-larger-than-Hogwarts-itself Potter. So obviously, I'm going to avoid admitting the fact that in Transfiguration, he is better than me. And so, probably, is Sirius. What depressing thoughts.

Still, it's sweet of Ellie to ask.

"I can try, but I can't promise anything El." And now she looks so pleased, and I feel rather guilty. Maybe if I did a little more work, I'd feel less so.

"Chamaeleo!" So much for an illusory charm; I'm supposed to be camouflaging the table and instead I've turned it purple. People are staring, and Ellie is looking at me like I'm coming down with something life-threatening. I'm not even going to look at Flitwick. I'm not sure I can handle such shame.

-----------------------------------------

Well, Flitwick seemed to think that I was ailing for something. Apparently it's not like his "best pupil" (his words) to make such a mistake, so he's sent me to the Hospital Wing. I wish people would stop obsessing over this whole 'top of the class' nonsense, because it's really going to give me a complex. And if there's one thing I don't need write now, it's extra stress.

So now, I'm sitting in the Hospital Wing, stressing over what McGonagall will say if I don't turn up for her afternoon class.

Extra stress.

I really, really don't need this.

----------------------------------------

Ten minutes until I'm supposed to be up at McGonagall's, and I don't think I could make it on time even if I ran. And still no sign of Madam Pomfrey, which is typical. When you don't want her around, she's always buzzing by your shoulder, but when you do, she's nowhere to be seen.

How irritating.

Wait a minute - door. Quill and book hidden in bag.

Oh, things can only get better. It's not Madam Pomfrey; it's James.

"Hey Evans. What're you doing lieing down in here? You know that McGonagall won't be happy if you miss her lesson." Thank you, Captain Obvious.

"Yes, thank you for pointing that out so succinctly. Unfortunately, I can't go until I'm discharged." And yes, I know I'm pouting, but really, I hate being late. So very, very much.

"Ah, that's where dashing, handsome seventh years like myself come in handy. I met her outside, she says you can go." I'm sorry, but where James is concerned, I can't help but be suspicious. And, interestingly, it seems like he can tell. "Come on, Lily, I wouldn't get you into trouble. She's in her office if you want to check."

Did he just call me Lily? You know, I think he did, and I don't even want to think about the effect that is having on my heart-rate.

"Um, ok." I'm still checking her office though. No matter how sincere he sounds, he's still James Potter. "Madam Pomfrey?" And she is in her office.

"Oh, yes, Miss Evans, you can go. Just take it easy. No sudden movements or shocks or anything."

I am stunned into silence. But only for a moment, because I'm painfully aware that I'm still going to be late for McGonagall's class.

"Um, thanks!" I'm still standing here though, trying hard to avoid James' gaze.

"Well? Evans? Are you coming?" OK, so, back to Evans. That helps a bit, I guess, even if I am a bit disappointed.

"Of course I am! You think I want to be late?" And I'm going to be so proactive that I'm going to march out of the hospital wing in front of him.

"I think-" Did he just grab my arm? "-that you might want to go this way. It's quicker, trust me." Yes, his hand is still there, on my arm. Ah, now he's noticed too, and pulled away whilst turning a beautiful shade of crimson. Excellent.

That's my evil side coming through, I suppose. I suspect a sliver of my Slytherin side there.

I can't help it but there's nothing to say to that, so I'll just follow him up to Transfiguration. I certainly didn't know that you could get to the top corridor this way, and annoyingly (but happily at the same time) James was right, and it is quicker. In fact we're here already, and we're even a minute early. It's odd, but so many of my encounters with James seem to have this dual-emotion factor to them. It's very confusing.

"After you, Lily."

Such a quiet, sincere voice; he can be so lovely when he wants to be.

Really, how is a girl supposed to concentrate in Transfiguration after that?


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Note: Go, on, review, it makes me happy!_

* * *

I haven't seen James since that fateful trip to Transfiguration earlier today. What worries me most about this is that I'm thinking about it far too much. Really, it was just as simple as him coming to fetch me to class. But honestly, I can't help being touched by the thought. And that scares me, because I can't afford to be having these thoughts right now. I've lasted six years not being attracted to James Potter, so why should I start now?

And my NEWTs will be here in a few months, and how am I supposed to revise when I'm obsessing over him?

No, no, not obsessing. Stop it, Lily. Don't go there. It's just a phase, brought on by lack of sleep. If I go and get some rest, it'll all snap into perspective and I'll stop thinking about him that way. Right.

Going to sleep then.

- - - - -

OK, so going to sleep really doesn't help clear your head when you're just dreaming about the very same person you're trying not to think about.

It was a strange dream. I dreamt that I was with James, and we were hiding from someone. I was sure we were going to be found eventually, but somehow, it didn't seem to matter, because I was with James, and we were content to have each other. And then, the room got smaller and smaller, and turned into a cupboard. It was dark and cramped, and I'm suprised I wasn't more scared by it, because I'm not really fond of the dark, or small spaces. I'm a little claustrophobic to tell the truth, still, I suppose you're never quite yourself in a dream, are you? Anyway, after that, an owl brought me a letter, and the door to the cupboard opened and there was a bright light and then I woke up.

Strange, huh?

Meh, it's twenty to one. I really should go back to sleep. Maybe I'll let myself dream of James again, just a little. I can't help it if it feels good to think of us together.

- - - - -

With fresh morning eyes, I'm horrified at to read what I wrote last night. Not the dream bit, obviously, I can't help what I dream, but this bit: "it feels good to think of us together". I can't let myself think like that! Not about James Potter.

So, not thinking of him.

Much.

Oh, this is pathetic. I'm going for a walk.

- - - - -

My quill is recording again in my bag, and since it's raining I've got my magical umbrella up. I can hear the rain drumming on the magical barrier, and it's kind of comforting. You could almost lose yourself in the rhythmic noise, forget your earthly cares and worries and just listen to nature, pitter pattering away.

There's next to no-one by the lake, because of the weather. Suits me fine, because there aren't many I'd be in a mood to talk to right now. I guess I'll just wander a bit and see where the path takes me today.

It's leading down to the Whomping Willow, which I'm not too keen to go too close to, so maybe I'll sit on the wall here instead. Wait a minute - I know that solitary figure sitting over there. It looks very Remus Lupin shaped to me. Maybe I'll go have a chat.

"Hey." Poor thing, he looks sad. I've waved my wand and extended my umbrella out over him.  
"Oh, hey, Lily." Even so, he managed a melancholy smile just for me. I'm touched, actually.  
"What's up, Remus?" Such a terrible sigh; it's heartbreaking.  
"Oh, you know. The usual." And yet, still he's smiling. Bless him, he's doing better than I would be under the circumstances.  
"Anything I can help with?"

"No, not really." A small laugh. "I was just thinking about the future. You know, how we'll all turn out, when we leave Hogwarts." Now that wasn't quite what I was expecting.  
"We'll all be rich, and happy, no doubt. Isn't that the way these things always end?" Well, you've got to try and be positive, haven't you? Remus doesn't seem to agree with me though, judging by the look on his face.

"Oh you will, no doubt, Lily, my dear. How could you not be?" Bless him, he's being sweet again. "Can't say so much for myself, as you know." Dark clouds are passing over his face, and I desperately would do almost anything to see them gone. Short of knowing quite what to do, I reach out and give him an awkward hug.

"You'll be alright, I know you will." He hugs me back, and then lets go. I feel myself missing the comforting touch almost immediately and shuffle a little closer to him to compensate. "Besides, do you really think that Sirius, James and I would leave you out in the cold?" I'm still smiling, but there's a small chill running through me at placing mine and James' names together like that. I'll try and ignore it, because now isn't the time. Luckily, it got a smile from Remus though.

"No," he says, "I suppose you wouldn't." A pause. "You're a real sweetheart, Lily, you know that."  
"Aw, you're making me blush."  
"Sorry."  
"No, no, don't apologise. You're sweet too." And I realise that I mean it. He really is sweet; and funny, and quite cute. And oh so brave.  
"He's very lucky." What?  
"Who is?" And now he's just giving me that Remus-all-knowing smile again. Damn him for knowing me too well.

"I've got to be going Lily. Try not to get too melancholy out here on your own."  
"Thanks, Remus."

And with that, he's gone, off into the drizzle towards the castle.

Remus really is sweet, and I do care a lot for him, and I will always be there for him. But I don't love him. Not like I feel for... other people. I kind of wish I did, because I'd have no problems with having that kind of depth of feeling for someone as kind and good and brave as Remus.

My biggest problem, of course, is that I'm beginning to think that maybe James _is_ someone as kind and good and brave as Remus.

Maybe I need to talk to Remus again.


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's note: Another update? Already? Am I mad? Hmm, maybe. Be grateful, leave nice reviews. _

* * *

You know, Madam Pomfrey isn't the only one who is never around when you want her. As soon as I've resolved myself to speak to Remus Lupin, Remus Lupin is the one man I can't find anywhere. It's just good enough, and I'd tell him so if I ever found him to tell him so.

OK, so it took me long enough to come to this conclusion; I need to talk to someone about my... James problem. Ugh, that sounds terrible.

But anyway, Remus is the closest thing I have to a confidant, because at least I know that if I tell him something he'll listen to me and be understanding and most importantly, he won't tell James. Which is seriously the last thing I need right now.

So, now, I just need to find the slippery little were-, ahem, person. Yes. Pah.

- - - - - - - -

This is useless. I've spent the whole day in classes, so of course I've seen Remus, but it's not exactly the sort of conversation that you can have in the back of a charms class. And if that wasn't enough of an objection, then the fact that he's always, without exception, sitting with James and the other two reprobates, is another deterrent to me.

Oh, I'm feeling so frustrated. Frustrated that I'm feeling this way, frustrated that I'm finally coming to the decision that I need to come to a decision, frustrated that it's him I'm feeling frustrated about.

Frustration, it abounds. And stress, too.

Did I mention the stress?

Argh, this is no use. I can't even vent properly in here, because there is no appropriate written equivilent to the annoyed, irritated and yes, frustrated, noises I'm making.

I'm going to the library. At least it's quiet in there, unlike this common room, which is full of people far too happy for my liking. Not that I'm against people being happy, it's just rather opposite to how I'm feeling at the moment, and as such I'm jealous of them.

- - - - - - - -

I was right: it is nice and quiet in the library. It makes a change.

I've got a stack of books in front of me, but I'm being distracted from reading them by this diary. It's not doing my marks any favours, maybe, but at least it's helping my personal well being. Kind of. If you don't count being confused about James. Well, maybe that would have happened anyway, diary or no diary.

Oh, here comes trouble. I can't face this right now. I'm just going to hide behind this bookcase here.

What am I doing? How old am I? Three? I'm hiding from James Potter and company. That's the sort of thing you do at primary school. Not when you're my age. This is completely pathetic. I know this, and yet I'm still behind the bookcase, showing no hope of coming out until they've gone.

Figures.

Anyway, I don't want to write when I could be spying in a juvenile fashion through a gap in the books on the shelves, so I'm sticking this thing on record again.

There it goes, quill flicking away. Kind of hypnotic actually.

OK, ok, stop watching the quill. Focus on your new career as a top superspy.

"She's not here." That's James. He sounds kind of disappointed, poor thing. No, no, I did not just think that. Ignore that last comment.  
"Told you, Prongs. You've scared her off, she's running away from you." The helpful and condolent tones of Sirius.  
"Sirius..." There's my Remus, my rock. Playing the mediator, as usual. I can't see him from my vantage point behind the bookshelf, just James. Very convenient, I know, but I swear I didn't plan it that way. "I guess I knew she wouldn't be but... I can't help it Moony. It's getting worse." I can't help it either; my heart is going out to him. He looks so very sad.  
"Aw, 'ickle Prongs has got his antlers in a twist." "Drop it, just..." That's a big sigh. "She won't meet me eyes anymore, you know. She used to. All the time. Now she just... looks at the floor. The wall. Anywhere. Anywhere but at me." I can see a hand, on James' arm. Looks like Sirius to me.

"I'm sorry, mate. You know I don't mean it." That has to be the most serious I've ever heard Sirius be. Really, ever.  
"I know, I know." He looks tired. "I really... I don't know anymore."  
"Maybe you've gone off her." That's the squeaky voice of Peter. "Are you going soft? James go off our Lily? There's more chance of Snivellus suddenly becoming attractive and setting up a charity for orphaned muggleborn wizards." I can see Sirius' attempt at humour doesn't lift James' spirits much.

"No, if anything I think I'm falling for her more. More and more every day. It's... oh, it's so frustrating!"

I feel a tightness in my chest, as he uses the same words to describe his own feelings as I did for mine earlier. It's almost as if he's describing how I'm feeling for him... No, no, stop it. You are not falling for James Potter, Lily Evans! Stop this ridiculous talk immediately!

"-not doing you any good to be telling us this, James. It's Lily who needs to hear it, not us." And I've tuned back in to Remus. "Hah." A very discouraged noise, accompanied by his hand running roughly through his hair. Not messing it up on purpose like he used to when he was younger; just a frustrated, tired young man who is venting his frustrations by combing his hair through with his fingers. It's endearing. "She wouldn't want to hear it."

"James-"  
"No, Remus. It doesn't matter how many times you tell me. I think she's made herself clear enough in the past. Six years and I haven't got the message yet. I wonder if I ever will." More hair-ruffling. I'm trying desperately to squash the urge I'm getting to run my own hands through that jet black hair of his.

"Come on, James. There's no reason to stay here. You should get to bed." Another sigh. I seem to be causing him quite a few of those, and it hurts me to think that.  
"OK. OK. I'm coming."

And there's a clatter and a scraping of chairs and a spell shoots from the doorway. A single book topples from the top of the stack that I'd left on the table and falls to the floor. I hear Peter's high-pitched laugh followed by four sets of receeding footsteps.

I'm fairly sure they've gone, after giving them a moment or so to clear the library. Now I'm picking up the fallen book, and replacing the stack on the trolley to be shelved. Even if no-one else cares about Madam Pince I certainly do. Poor woman. The books are her life and all the students ever seem to do is wind her up.

Now I guess I'll go back to the common room. I've suddenly lost all will to study. Or even pretend to study.

- - - - - -

There's no one in the common room. Every one has gone to bed, or is elsewhere in the castle. The Gryffindor fire is burning in the fireplace, and crackling in a soft and comforting manner, so I think I'll take a seat by it. It never fails to amaze me just how soft these chairs really are. You could sink into them and almost never be seen again.

The flames are dancing, giving off flickering tongues of light which play across the old surfaces of walls and ceiling in the common room. It's the perfect place, in the quiet of night, to think. And I there's no prizes for guessing what I'm thinking of.

Remembering gives me that funny tightness in my chest again. I think of James, lying up there in his bed, staring open-eyed at the ceiling. I can almost see his furrowed brow, his arm behind his head with one hand still tangled in his hair...

This is getting me nowhere but into more trouble. I can't not think of him, but at the same time I can't think about him either, because it only confuses me more. It would seem there's just no solution to this problem, not yet anyway.

I'm going to go to bed.

Wait - noise from the boy's staircase. It's James, and I know he hasn't seen me yet because he's still walking down the stairs in that slow and melancholy fashion. Ah, now he has, because he's stopped.

"Evans." He seems surprised to see me here. Well, I guess I wasn't here when he got back from the library a few minutes ago, so he has good reason. "I was just fetching a book."

I'm finding the carpet fascinating when I suddenly realise that he was right, what he said, back there in the library. I never do meet his eyes any more. Maybe I'm too scared. I wonder what I'm scared of, anymore.

"I was just going to bed." I'm making a concerted effort, but my eyes have still only found the wall behind him.

"Right. Well, ok."

Silence again. I'm not sure what kind. Then suddenly, suddenly there's a surge of confidence or something in me and I look up. I meet his eyes. They're grey, the sort of colour that you could imagine oceans being. And I feel like I could drown in them.

"Goodnight, James. Sleep well." He's just looking at me, and I'm just looking at him. I'm mesmerised, caught and captured by his stare and I don't think I could look away even if you paid me all the galleons in Gringotts.

"Goodnight Lily." His voice is soft, it feels like velvet to me. I don't know when it happened, but suddenly there's nothing else that matters, nothing else that exists. Just him; with his eyes, and his voice saying my name. "Pleasant dreams."

And then he turns away from me, picks up a book from the table and walks back upstairs. I thought, for a moment, that I heard him falter but he didn't stop. He didn't turn back. He just kept walking, until I couldn't hear anything anymore but the crackling of the fire and the echo of his voice in my head.

Now I'm standing here, shaking slightly. Reeling from the power of something I didn't want to acknowledge, but now I can't escape from.

Maybe there is a solution to all this. Maybe I just wasn't ready to consider it before.


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Note: More story, for all you wonderful reviewers out there!_

* * *

Whoever said that it'll all be alright in the morning has clearly never been in my life. An evening of disturbed sleep, of tossing and turning, and of seeing nothing but James Potter's eyes swimming in my vision has not helped to clarify my mind. Not in the slightest. If anything, I think it's actually made it worse.

What I really need, now, is for me to walk downstairs and catch James Potter teasing and maligning an innocent first year. Then I'll forget all about these stupid... feelings... whatever they are. I'm... not thinking about it. Really.

- - - - - -

OK, ok, so I am. But that doesn't mean I'm going to do anything about it. He's still James Potter; the stupid little boy who has been the bane of my existance since first year. One meaningful look one evening in the Common Room is not going to change that.

All this really comes down to, I guess, is a matter of willpower. I simply have to force myself not to think about him. Not to look at him, into those deep, grey eyes of his. Not to have... feelings for him.

Easy.

Right?

- - - - - -

Well, Muggle Studies went really well. Didn't look at James once.

OK, so he wasn't in the lesson, but I'm not in the mood to nit-pick.

- - - - - -

Just had Transfiguration. Let's not even talk about it.

- - - - - -

OK, OK, we'll talk about it. I can't believe I'm arguing with myself in my diary... I'm blaming the stress.

So, James was in class. Obviously. It's his best class, he's not likely to miss it.

And... he kept looking at me. And I kept looking at him, despite my resolution not to. And then... then, we both looked together. I just felt a blush creeping up my cheeks, and then I looked away, and I haven't been able to get my eyes off the floor since.

I ran outside practically on the bell, and down to my favourite thinking spot, by the lake, where I write so often. That's where I am now, just sitting and writing and wondering if I can pinpoint the exact moment when the world as I know it fell apart. I'm coming to the conclusion that it's been happening on a slippery slope for far too long for that to be possible.

I spy a figure coming towards me. For a moment I panicked that it was going to be James, but no. It's the one person I actually could do with talking to now; one Remus Lupin. I'll stick the quill on record again.

"Hey Lily." He's taken a seat beside me on the wall.  
"Hey." Even I can hear the dejected tone in my voice, despite my best efforts to hide it.

"Enjoying the weather?" How can he be so calm at a time like this? It's infuriating. "Not really." "Ah." Ah? What's that supposed to mean?

"Remus. You know I love your company, but really"  
"Yes, there is another reason for me following you out here, as you very well know." Damn him for knowing me too well. "Hmm." That's right, I have no words. None left. All gone.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He's doing the cute and approachable thing again. I think it's that which makes him so easy to talk to. He always looks like he's listening.

"I don't know." Do I? Maybe I need to. "I... I don't know how to say it." "James giving you trouble again?" Still with the innocent looks. "Ha!" Where to begin?  
"I take that as a yes?" Now he's just being infuriating.

"Yes, yes, Remus. He's driving me up the wall. Around the bend. Crazy. Loony. Nuts. I can't stand it anymore. All I can think about-" Let's stop there for a minute, shall we? The awkward pause is feeling unloved. Let's give it a chance to appear in this chapter. I think Remus knows what I was going to say anyway, and it stops me having to say it at any rate.

"He's not all that bad, you know." Remus is staring into space, lost in his own world now. "Do you think I'd be friends with him if he was? He's actually a rather decent sort." Cute smiles. "You know he thinks the world of you."

That's not the point. I know that he.. I... Oh. I can't even bring myself to think it, let alone say it. Cares for me. I know that he cares for me. He's never left me in any doubt.

"I know." "And?" What does he mean, and? I can't do anything but look puzzled at that remark. "And you aren't all that averse to him, are you Lily?"

What can I say to that? Admit it? To Remus? To myself? I don't know if I can.

"Lily, you know I'd never get you into anything I didn't think would be the best thing in the world for you, because you know I want nothing for you but the best. So remember that, when I tell you to go and talk to James."

I still can't manage words. I'm just sitting here, mute, looking at Remus. I'm overwhelmed; by Remus' kind words, by his soft voice and manner, by what he's suggesting I go and do. Part of my wished I could just wave my wand and make it go away, but then there's another part of me which stirs at the thought of a quiet conversation with James.

"You don't need me to work this out, Lily. But you know where I am, if you decide that you do." And he's smiling at me, with those adorabley cute eyes, and he's leaving me alone here.

I don't know what to do now. I know he's right, really. I know I should talk to James.

But I close my eyes, and I see James looking back at me, and I wonder if I'm thinking straight. And if I care if I am or not.

I don't think I do.


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Note: This is a short one. Sorry, no excuse for it, other than it has to be to set up the next chapter!_

* * *

It's a Saturday today. And about time I had a weekend, if I do say so myself. A day to have a lie-in, to relax.

Or, in my case, a day to have a lie-in, where I can stay in bed and think over what Remus said to me yesterday afternoon.

I managed to avoid contact with pretty much anyone yesterday after our little heart-to-heart, and since I've been in bed all morning I've been fairly isolated this morning too. I can't decide what I feel, let alone what I should do about it. It's so confusing.

I've always known, in my life, exactly what I was feeling, where I was going and what I was doing. I've never worried about the future, because it was always obvious what would happen next; either because others expected it of me or I expected it of myself. The last big surprise in my life was finding out that I was a witch, and that I was coming to Hogwarts. That was over six years ago, so maybe it's no wonder that now, when I'm finally facing another surprise in my life, that I'm a little bit thrown for six.

I can't shake the niggling feeling though, that I shouldn't be surprised by it. That it's something that's been going on for longer than I know, longer than I'm willing to think about.

But all of that is academic. I am faced with this decision, this choice. I am faced with James. And in lieu of knowing what to do about it, I think that I'm going to follow Remus' advice and talk to him.

If I can work up the courage to do it.

- - - - - -

I've made it all the way to the library. I don't know exactly why I think that James will be here, or that he'll be alone enough to talk to. He always seems to be surrounded by the other three troublemakers, so I don't know what has possessed me to think that today will be an exception. Still, I have no other ideas, so here I sit. Watching, and waiting.

At last - the door. Four Marauders; well, better than none I guess. I'm behind my favourite bookcase again before I know it, and they haven't seen me. I can't hear them; they're too far away, but somehow it doesn't matter today. I can see them. I can see James.

He's looking more cheerful than when I saw him last. His grey eyes are shining, and he's smiling. I don't know what's made him happy but I'm hoping a little that it's somehow related to me.

Stop it, stop thinking that Lily. Don't let yourself think those things. Just... don't.

Wait a minute - is that them leaving? No... this is interesting... this is Remus, Sirius and Peter leaving. James is staying. On his own. Without anyone else around.

I'm frozen to the spot with fear. This is my chance, my opportunity, but I can't bring myself to move. I don't know what to say, what to do. How do you start such a conversation? 'Hey James, just wondering whether you were fancying me today, um, because I think I'm falling for you'.

Or not.

Well, I have to say something. I won't be able to live with myself if I let this opportunity pass me by. Quill on record in bag. Steeling myself for the situation. Stepping out from behind the bookcase. He hasn't seen me still; he's reading a book. Good for me. Another step towards him. Good, good, making progress.

Wait- A hand on my shoulder. It's Ellie. She looks upset- I wonder what's up?

"El"  
"Oh Lily, I'm so sorry!" Now she's crying. I don't understand.  
"El? Tell me, what's the matter?" "It's your Aunt, Lily. She's... she's been in an accident." What?  
"My- what"  
"Your Aunt Anna. Lily, I'm so sorry." I don't know what to think. My mind is a blur. My dear, sweet Aunt Anna. "How? Why?" My voice is cracking with emotion and my eyes are flying around the room looking for something to lock on to, something real. I just see books; books; bookcases; James. He's looking up at me, concern in his eyes.  
"Something at the Ministry. I don't know any details. I'm sorry, Lily." My mind is whirling. "She's been taken to St Mungo's." I have to visit her. I have to go now.

------------------------------------------


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's Note: Final part! I hope you've enjoyed it. Maybe if I get enough kind words I might do a sequel. Hint Hint. _

* * *

Chapter nine

I'm back from St Mungos. They think Aunt Anna will be alright, though her condition isn't completely stable at the moment.

I think maybe I should explain who Anna is. She's not my real aunt, obviously, because everyone knows I'm the most muggleborn witch in the whole of Hogwarts, with not a drop of magical blood in me. Anna lives on my street at home. She's always been there, since I can remember; picking me and Petunia up from school, watching us when Mom and Dad were away or ill. I never knew at the time, but she is, and was, a witch. The morning I got my Hogwarts letter she was around to our house faster than you could say 'Quidditch'. She was so helpful; she's been like family to me, even though we're not related. I don't think I could have coped so well with the whole new magical world without her.

Petunia on the other hand... I don't think I've ever seen anyone go off someone so fast. One day it was all smiles and hugs, the next... well, she's never liked witchcraft, or magic. So I guess it was only inevitable that she'd not like Anna when she found out she was a witch.

Anyway, back to now. Anna works in the Department of International Magical Co-operation. I don't know what she does, exactly, only that she seems to have been caught up in something fairly serious. She's in what muggles call a coma; any way you look at it she's not out of trouble yet, no matter what the healers at St Mungos might have told me. I know; I've seen programmes on muggle television and I've read books. I know that there's no certainty in medicine.

I'm trying not to think about it, but I'm not getting very far. I'm tired and drained, with no energy left, but everytime I close my eyes I just see her lieing there on the hospital bed, and I find myself too worried to sleep. That's why I'm downstairs in the Common Room, sitting in one of those very large squishy sofas, in front of the dieing embers of the fire at two o'clock in the morning. I'm cold and shivering, but I can't decide whether that's to do with the temperature or just my mental state.

My quill is recording down on the floor under the coffee table, because I haven't the energy to write for myself, even though I am missing the therapeutic feeling of writing. I'm so wound up inside with worry and sadness that I'm not sure whether to feel or not yet.

And I thought I was confused this morning. I mean, yesterday morning. Well, you know what I mean.

- - - - - - -

I can't decide if I've been asleep or not. I'm still sitting here in the Common Room, on the same sofa. Perhaps the fire has died a little further, but I couldn't be sure. My watch is upstairs in my room next to my bed, so I don't know what the time is. I'm still cold, and my arms and legs are stiff from being curled up for this indeterminable amount of time.

Maybe I should stretch a little. Yes, that's better. I can almost feel my tension unwinding.

Almost.

Wait- is that a noise? In the Common Room, at this time? It's still dark outside, so it must still be night. I think it's coming from the staircases. Yes, there's someone coming down the stairs from the boys dorm. I'm feeling the fight or flight impulse, but I've got no energy to move-

"Lily?" Oh my. It's James. And this... This is the last way I'd want him to see me. "James." My voice is cracking in my throat, despite my best efforts. His faces creases in sympathy.  
"Oh Lily..." I can't take this any more. I can feel my eyes itching, and I don't think I can stop the pathetic noise that is escaping from me. Not quite a sob, but not quite a gulp either.  
"Mmnm." See, I told you so. Now he's coming to sit next to me. "Are you ok? Is your aunt ok?" There's no messing around tonight - I meet his eyes immediately, and the concern that is swimming in them is just too much for me. I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes, and the wetness as one slides down my cheek. James' own eyes widen at the sight, and the next thing I know he's reaching out, brushing my cheek, wiping away the moisture.

"Hey... Don't cry. It's ok." But I can't help it. I've been so wound up, for so long, and he's being so nice-  
"I'm sorry!" "What for?" He's actually smiling at me. "It's ok, Lily, it's ok." Another whimper escapes my lips and I can't help myself; I've leant into him, onto his soft shoulder, and finally, finally I'm letting all the tension go and just crying. It doesn't matter that this morning I couldn't talk to him, or last week I didn't want to like him, or last year I hated him. All that matters is that now I'm sitting her, sobbing my heart out and he's just holding me, being here, being... James.

- - - - - -

I'm opening my eyes again, and for the second time this evening I think I fell asleep. My neck feels stiff and-

Wait a minute. I'm lieing on something soft and this is definitely not a pillow. Wait- it's coming back... James... crying... Oh, I feel terrible.

"Hey you." James, talking in that soft voice which I can't help wanting to hear more of. "Did you sleep ok?" I fell asleep on him? I actually did?

"I'm so sorry, James, I really didn't mean to-" He moved his finger as if to shush me but stopped short.  
"Hey." His hand has moved to my shoulder instead, helping me up to an up-right sitting position again. My head is still spinning a little, but I can't decide if that's because I sat up too fast or because I'm just becoming aware of how close James is to me.

"How are you feeling?" How am I feeling?  
"I... I don't know." That smile... How can I know anything when faced with that smile? "I'm good, I think." "Good to see you're regaining that razor-sharp brain of yours." That'll earn him a slap on the arm, which in turn just earns me some laughter. "Ah, there's my Lily!"

Did he just call me his Lily?

I think he did, and I think he knows it too, because the smile has faded a little from his face and he's moved his hand from my shoulder.

"James..." My voice is barely a whisper, but the speed with which his eyes meet mine again is as if I'd shouted his name. "Yes?" I'm losing myself in his eyes again, only suddenly I don't seem to mind so much. "I..." I don't know what to say. Maybe I don't have to say anything.

Maybe all I have to do it reach out and touch his soft face like this... Tangle my other hand in his raven-black hair like this...

...and... kiss him...

It's like nothing I've ever felt before. I'm lost, floating in nothingness. All I can feel is him, all I can see is him. Seven years of confusion and a growing fondness have turned into this; this one moment of total heaven, punctuated only by his hands moving to caress my own face and tangle in my own hair. One arm slips around my waist and pulls me nearer, and I can't resist him. For a fleeting moment I wonder whether I'll ever be able to deny James Potter anything ever again, but the moment vanishes as quickly as it came as I realise that I don't want to.

An eternity later we pull apart, resting our foreheads together as we fight for composure. I find his eyes again, and they're so full of love that I can almost feel the pull on my heart.

"I love you, Lily," he says, reaching out to push a stray piece of hair back behind my ears. "My Lilyflower." He smiles, and I smile back.  
"I know." His arm is still tight around my waist, and I feel safe. "I love you too, James."

And for the first time in years, I feel sure I about something. I really do.


End file.
